


over and over again

by SilverMoonT



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Getting Back Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25665751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMoonT/pseuds/SilverMoonT
Summary: On my mind, you're on my mindLeaving, fading awayEach and every day, each and every nightAlways coming back, together foreverYou and I
Relationships: Ennoshita Chikara/Futakuchi Kenji
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	over and over again

**Author's Note:**

> To Rie, happy birthday, thank you for being you and loving these characters and this ship as much as I do❤🎉

Ennoshita licks his lips, the edge of his teeth promptly brushing pink flesh, gently and preventing his mouth from curving into a smile when he thinks of the lips that have been on his; previously, not really long ago. Claiming, assuring, being sincere. He rolls his eyes, not really angry with himself, but surrendered. He thinks of his patients telling him that he is a composed person when dealing with them, of his coworkers expressing that good words are those to be pronounced every time his name is mentioned because together with his gentle smile and his soft voice, he manages to win even the most irritable patient; and he lets out the ghost of a laugh, since for him, it's clear that he's anything but a patient person.

He tries to pull his shoulders back although he is currently laying on his side, with a pillow under his head as the covers hide his body up to his waist, the skin of his torso being exposed in the darkness of the room that fails to be completely obscure, since the door is open and so the light from the hallway highlights the boring white of the covers as the first signs of a dawn infiltrate through the only window in the room. Ennoshita takes advantage of the absence of fabrics over his chest to bring his arm to his back, crossing it in front of his chest to be able to exert pressure with the help of his fingertips where he knows he has to, because even though he always tries to stay upright since he has to be an example for his patients, the train trip from the day before still carries certain consequences on his back. He knows that if he has any pain —not really pain, but a slight discomfort that can actually go away quickly, it’s also possible to blame himself because it’s not as if for the last few hours he had decided to stay still precisely, so again he rolls his eyes and stops trying to treat himself as a patient to bring his hands together and leave them under his head, not caring if he has a real pillow already.

He blinks and takes the opportunity to look around him, since in fact up to that moment he hasn’t had the time to do so nor the intention because he has been distracted with other kinds of sensations. He sees the floor being covered by a blue carpet as well as the wall being free of any kind of decoration, the window curtains are made of almost transparent fabric. He lowers his eyes and so his attention to the bedside table next to him, and rests the palm of his hand on the mattress to give himself strength and thus leave his elbow on it after seeing an object that turns out to be familiar. He takes the set of keys he finds and holds it between his fingers to allow one of the corners of his mouth to finally curl once he recognizes the bear brown keychain that is now hanging between his fingers.

"I assume you're looking at that because you remember it and not because you think that if you start looking through my stuff you will find out that I have a sudden obsession with bears."

Ennoshita knows that he should have been frightened by the sudden intrusion of that voice, but Futakuchi's tone turns out to be so serene that he only chooses to glance at him over his shoulder to then see the keychain again. He keeps looking at it even if he feels that the mattress sinks down beside him and Futakuchi draws an arm over his shoulder to gently grab the keychain between his fingers. If Futakuchi purposely makes their fingers brush before letting it hang again, he doesn't mention it.

"I won it for you." Ennoshita says.

"It was on our first date, wasn't it? The date we didn't know was a date."

Ennoshita laughs when he hears him, and so does Futakuchi.

"We didn't realize or think it was suspicious when Yahaba and Kyoutani casually proposed that we should go to the arcade, just the four of us instead of everyone else, and we only started to get suspicious when they said they wanted to go play a specific game and then they didn't come back for a really, really long time."

"Can you believe it? It was an ambush."

Ennoshita smiles, looking at the keychain. He remembers himself, being seventeen years old and falling into the sudden reality that two of his friends had organized that date with a kind of intentions that both he and Futakuchi hadn’t foreseen because without planning it, they were now alone, looking at each other, being fully aware that Kyoutani and Yahaba wouldn’t come back even though they had agreed that the four of them would go out together. He thinks about him, starting to organize a plan on how to get rid of Yahaba without actually getting rid of him, looking at Futakuchi because he hadn't seemed to be upset with the fact that they had been left alone, just like he hadn't either.

"I can believe it, if even Kyoutani got tired of us dancing around each other," Ennoshita responds by choosing to leave the keychain where he had found it.

He remembers himself, ignoring the looks of his friends when he and Futakuchi ended up talking to each other or choosing to sit side by side when they decided to get together because they were all captains and they had to get along in order to help each other, or at least Yahaba had said it when Shirabu had tried to refuse. Always accepting Futakuchi's unsuccessful —though apparently not so unsuccessful— attempts to flirt with him, and he responding naturally although many other times he had rolled his eyes, shook his head, or bit his lower lip trying to prevent a smile to be seen on his face. But always choosing to listen to his words, anyway. Always choosing to watch him.

"I didn't think you'd still have it." He adds before finally turning around.

He leaves the other elbow on the mattress so that he can rest his head against the palm of his hand, being aware that he shouldn’t do it because it’s bad for both his neck and his wrist, but the truth is that this is the detail his mind decides to skip when Futakuchi has moved away from him to lay down just like him. He wears comfortable loose green pants, and just like him he’s shirtless, offering him the chance to see the purple mark near his neck, knowing that this is a product of his lips.

"You won it for me, of course I still have it." Futakuchi says before he can continue to watch that mark interrupting his skin.

Ennoshita looks at him, but is again distracted by the fact that Futakuchi had only left to find a bag of sour gummies, since at that moment one is in the middle and Futakuchi is eating one. Ennoshita raises both eyebrows, not really being that surprised, and Futakuchi looks at him, beginning to chew more slowly because Ennoshita keeps watching him.

"What?"

"Sour gummies."

"What?" Futakuchi repeats but this time with a shrug. "It's like five in the morning, I can eat them." He adds, evidencing his statement after reaching the bag with his hand to bring another gummy to his mouth. "You want?"

Ennoshita wrinkles his nose and shakes his head.

"You still like them."

"Of course I do," Futakuchi looks at him, and Ennoshita raises an eyebrow because he only needs Futakuchi to look at him the way he does to know that he will express words that probably have to do with him, with them. "You used to say that although you don't like them, you don't mind the taste they leave in my mouth."

Ennoshita looks at him and remembers himself saying it, Futakuchi laughing.

"Do you want to see if you keep thinking the same thing?" Futakuchi adds.

Sometimes time doesn’t really seem to pass, it’s what Ennoshita thinks at that moment, but it’s precisely because he knows that it has passed, that instead of responding, he chooses to lean towards him as well as Futakuchi does when he sees him perform that simple movement, and their lips meet for a second; a sour and quick, gentle instant. Ennoshita licks his lips, knowing that he still holds the same opinion, and Futakuchi chooses to steal a kiss before the two move away again.

The two look at each other, neither smiling but also not being completely serious.

Ennoshita remembers themselves doing that same action five years ago; between laughter, promising words and with the jackets of their schools on. Futakuchi stealing kisses from him is something that never changes, just like apparently, he allowing him either. He thinks it's interesting, and a little —well, quite— dangerous how quickly he can get used to it again, how easy it is to get back, to fall, into habits. He knows it by his own profession. If you don't attend the sessions and don't do the right exercises, nothing will change. There’s always some kind of routine, good or bad. But at that moment Ennoshita feels that he is fulfilling everything except a routine because only yesterday he had come back and already, again, again, he is falling, accepting him, accepting them, confusing himself.

"I assume that you kissing me instead of asking if I have to leave means you don't want me to go." Ennoshita says.

Futakuchi holds a sour gummy inches away from his mouth and frowns.

"Why would I want you to go?" He asks, not having expected those words.

Ennoshita remains silent and gives himself the opportunity to slide his eyes to Futakuchi's neck while he continues to look at him, confusion still reflected in his facial features. The two hickeys interrupting his skin make it clear that if at that moment their locks point everywhere while the covers are a mess, it’s because they have sought each other in the same way, wanting, wishing, repeating movements that years ago they had performed, not so long actually; younger, perhaps a little bit more rebellious, but still just as distracted with each other; or the other way around, too focused on each other.

He brings his hand to Futakuchi’s neck to leave it there and brush the purple color with his thumb, the corners of Futakuchi's mouth inevitably curling as he tries to bring one side of his head to his shoulder because the gesture tickles him.

"Maybe you regret this."

"Why would I regret it?" Futakuchi asks him, the next gummy being left in the bag and him straightening up getting Ennoshita to believe that perhaps he should have expressed another kind of words. "Do you regret this?"

"No," He replies since it’s the truth and because Futakuchi stops frowning. "But is it selfish of me to think that I would be able to bear the situation?" He asks, even if he knows that Futakuchi can’t provide an answer since only he himself can judge his own actions and be aware of his own decisions, which limits he is willing to break and which ones he is not. "You sent a bunch of awful glares at me."

Perhaps it’s true that only he can make his own decisions, but that doesn’t take away the fact that the words, gestures, and actions of others guide said verdicts.

"I was checking you out," Futakuchi assures him at the same time that Ennoshita stops keeping his hand on his neck.

"Checking me out more like being stubborn."

The years go by but Ennoshita knows how to keep on reading intentions.

Futakuchi snorts before rolling his eyes and choosing to leave the bag of gummies on the nightstand, a casual gesture that is not really casual at all because that implies that Futakuchi has to approach him to pass his arm over his body and therefore get their faces to stay close. Ennoshita lowers his eyes to his lips, and for the same reason Futakuchi smiles before crossing his gaze with his and finally lying on his back, although he chooses to turn his head towards him instead of looking at the ceiling. He has had too many nights to look at that flat, gray, boring surface, and looking at Ennoshita is something he must now consider a luxury; a luxury that he continues to count on with.

"Fifty-fifty." He admits.

Ennoshita's eyes narrow for a second when Futakuchi decorates his face with a grin, and he chooses to copy him after lying down, although unlike him, he uses his arms as a pillow after resting on his stomach. "You've always been like that with me." He looks at him.

"You're lying."

"Before we were boyfriends." Ennoshita clarifies.

Boyfriends. The word leaves his lips uncomfortably, along with a familiar tone; kind of melancholic.

They can’t refer to themselves under that statement anymore, because now they are ex-boyfriends. They share a look, not needing to add any words or trying to form a sentence for the two of them to know that the word has been dancing between them, the letters cutting with the air around them. The memories, the time together, the shared moments. Boyfriends. It’s a single word, a set of letters that can actually mean so much after so long.

"I glared at every captain, don't take it personal." Futakuchi expresses because just as they know that a single word can change the same atmosphere that they have created, they are also aware of the fact that Futakuchi always knows what to say to start or end with an awkward moment. "Do take personal the flirting that came with the glares."

Futakuchi watches the smile that Ennoshita hides behind his arm.

He knows that he should consider that moment as a sudden change, the fact that only yesterday he was lying down, using the ceiling of his room as if it were a television channel, while at that time Ennoshita turns out to be the view in which he decides to rest his eyes because he can only focus on him, because in his own way, Ennoshita forces him to focus on him and nothing, no one else; but he thinks that he really wants to take that change as a new opportunity. For what? He doesn't know it very well, but he does know that he prefers to have less space in his bed because there’s someone by his side, someone he knows very well, too well, or perhaps not so well anymore. Still not quite sure.

"So you weren't flirting with the others?"

Futakuchi laughs.

"Can you imagine Kyoutani jumping at my neck for flirting with Yabs?" The corners of Ennoshita's eyes crinkle after smiling at those words. "Or Shirabu looking at me in a bad way as he begins to say how satisfied he is with Semi?"

"What about nationals?"

Futakuchi raises both eyebrows. "Then you do remember that I beat you."

Ennoshita rolls his eyes. "Of course."

An entertaining grin appears on Futakuchi's face.

"Not even with Akaashi," He assures him. "Besides, you were the only one who left me speechless."

"Speechless?"

"Yes." Futakuchi replies. "With that look of yours that made me fall for you."

Futakuchi is aware of how provocative he used to be, how provocative he still is although in a different way, sometimes the same. Riling up players across the court was as easy as jumping to block and showing why Dateko is still known for its large number of blocks. Most followed his words that end up with him sticking his tongue out on purpose; he had had his respective fun with Kyoutani as well as other times with Shirabu. Some simply chose to take a look at him and perhaps say something under their breath, like Akaashi; while in reality Ennoshita was always the only one who kept looking at him, with both eyebrows raised, not appearing to be affected, until he finished speaking to simply express, ask with the most unimpressed look ever, _are you done?_

"Fall because my team won the last tournament." Ennoshita says.

And again, just like the previous years, Futakuchi huffs and Ennoshita smiles.

Some things never change.

"I defeated you first, Chikara."

The two share a look again; because really, some things never change. Habits are difficult to give up no matter how much time passes, taking up practices can take as well as not; and they know very well, it’s evident to them by the simple fact that at that moment they found themselves side by side, with most of their clothes discarded, forgotten, the dawn beginning to join their conversation, the fact that there are certain manners that never truly get lost. Saying a name shouldn't hurt as much; hearing a name shouldn't provoke so much; and yet, they both keep looking at each other. Futakuchi not regretting it because he didn't actually do it on purpose, Ennoshita without feeling that he should express something. It’s not the first time actually, since during the night the same sequences of letters have been expressed in the midst of sounds that had shown how good they still make each other feel.

Futakuchi chooses to move so that he can sit with his legs crossed and use the mattress as a fixed point, simple yet characteristic actions being enough for Ennoshita to raise his gaze again and cross it with his to know that the tension that now accompanies his shoulders has a reason.

"Why didn't you tell me you came back?" Futakuchi asks him.

Sometimes Ennoshita doesn't like to know Futakuchi well —too well.

Ennoshita lets out a sigh, his own breathing meeting his arm. He knows that since his high school years he has had the ability to read the people around him, in a certain way knowing what is happening to them without needing them to use words to tell him, and at no time has he lost the ability to do so. Because he can still decipher when a patient expresses that they feel less pain than they actually feel, when Akaashi hides more than he says, or even when only a phone call is enough to know if Shirabu is tired after studying or not.

For the same reason he is able to anticipate actions and decisions, but he never would have anticipated that one day after coming back to Miyagi, he would find himself in Futakuchi's apartment, in his bed, with him at his side after they had left aside that despite the years, they still know each other, in a certain way; maybe somewhat different, but still knowing each other, because they know where to kiss, what words to say, and what centimeters of skin to cover with hands and lips and sweet yet nostalgic words. He is not angry at finding himself in that situation since he knows that he could have stopped with it and had chosen not to, but rather confused, still processing the last twenty-four hours if that is how he can express it in his head.

"'Hey Ennoshita, how are you, long time no see.'" Ennoshita expresses instead of answering, being fully aware that at that moment he is only wasting time with those words, since just as Futakuchi hadn’t smiled or said words like those as soon as he had seen him, he hadn’t done it either.

"Funny that you say that because I can't remember the last time I called you by your last name."

Years.

Ennoshita looks at him. Futakuchi is serious.

"Because why would I?" He asks leaving his elbows on the mattress.

"Because you don't want to come across me when I'm buying sour gummies."

"I can't believe you keep eating that."

"Don't change the topic of conversation."

"I didn't tell you not because I didn't want to see you, but because I didn't want it to be difficult or uncomfortable," Ennoshita assures him, since it's impossible for him to imagine himself trying to hide behind a stack of sour gummies just because the person in the aisle turns out to be Futakuchi. "This is your territory now." Almost four years studying and a few months working in Tokyo are the reason behind those words.

Confusion is evident on Futakuchi's face.

"Territory? My territory now?" He asks, disorientation accompanying his tone of voice, a bit of frustration, too. "Do you consider yourself part of Tokyo now? A Tokyo boy?"

Ennoshita laughs, without actually laughing.

Fortunately, he had Akaashi. Kenma, Fukunaga, Taketora, Suna, Komori, and Sakusa. But unlike them, he is not part of Tokyo. Tokyo is part of him.

"Not at all." He replies.

"See, then you are still a peasant from Miyagi just like the rest of us."

They both laugh the same way, recalling the way that both their friends from Nekoma and Fukurodani have sometimes addressed them with those words because they are not part of the great capital of Japan. Ennoshita moves to keep his legs extended and rest the palms of his hands on the mattress, choosing to move his feet just because. The night before he had found himself in the same way, although alone and in the room that his parents still have for him; again being surrounded by a familiar atmosphere making him remember moments, people, bringing back feelings that never really faded away.

"I'm sorry if I acted distant today," Futakuchi says and so he looks at him.

"No need to say sorry, I froze." Ennoshita giggles at the end.

Ennoshita had left his house in the afternoon not because he had wanted to run places he already knew, but quite the contrary, to meet new ones that he knew would become familiar anyway because people he knows are connected to them. His friendship with Yahaba had never ended and for the same reason he had told him to stop by his new apartment if he wanted to, one that he shares with Kyoutani because just as the friendship between them has never come to an end, neither has the love that was born between Kyoutani and Yahaba.

Hugs, words of joy, that was how he had been received, both by Yahaba and by Kyoutani because now he is again in Miyagi and therefore he can see them again when their schedules allow them. And some stories had been shared, until the doorbell had sounded a second time and the person Ennoshita had been thinking about since he had taken the train from Tokyo to his home appeared before him. Futakuchi had looked at him seriously, and just as Ennoshita had just mentioned, he had frozen because he hadn't expected to see him so soon, just a day after he'd returned.

"You know, now that I think about it, Yahaba invited me to see his apartment, you went because he told you to stop by to leave him some stuff, I think I'm starting to see a pattern here, don't you think?" Ennoshita adds, wondering how he was just realizing that Futakuchi and he meeting again hadn’t been a coincidence at all.

"Are you mad?" Futakuchi asks him.

Ennoshita looks at him. "Not really," He replies, since if he had been angry to see him, he would have chosen to leave the apartment of Yahaba and Kyoutani instead of agreeing to go to Futakuchi’s apartment when he had suggested it seconds after leaving their friends’ apartment at the same time. He also believes that he doesn’t have the right to be angry.

He chooses to move to sit in front of him in the same way, the covers sliding down his legs and thus being evidenced that if he’s only wearing his underwear it’s because he hadn’t been, nor he is, angry. "I came back to stay." Ennoshita adds, looking at him, and the fact that Futakuchi inhales a short breath of air doesn't escape him. "I finished my studies a few months ago, I worked, but I was offered a job here, so I came back."

Tokyo had offered him a scholarship to study to become a physical therapist and for the same reason Akaashi's face had become even more familiar as well as he had developed closer ties with people of his same age with whom he had had volleyball matches with a next in the middle. He had quickly understood that Sakusa wasn’t as serious as he used to seem, that Komori and Suna were teammates, and that Akaashi still talked with Kenma, Fukunaga, and Taketora.

The two share a look.

They had both learned a lot each on their own, many times the same.

"Are you seeing someone?" Futakuchi asks him.

"Are you?"

"I'm seeing you," Futakuchi answers.

They are seeing each other, because they are face to face, sitting together.

Together?

"Then you're not seeing anyone."

Futakuchi licks his lips. "You know I can't trust people."

"You know hookups are a thing."

"You know I don't like that kind of stuff." Ennoshita looks at him. "But apparently you are the exception." Futakuchi adds.

The memory of the night from almost a year ago.

Ennoshita's birthday.

Hands. Lips. Skin. Words, sighs, names. _Happy Birthday_.

Futakuchi believes that he is always allowing Ennoshita in some way or another, to push him to try, to attempt, to decide to take risks because with no other person is he able to spend just one night so that later his heart suffers even more. _I'm leaving tomorrow, I have to go back._ Ennoshita had whispered, sad. _I don’t regret it._ Futakuchi had said, already sad. It had hurt, it hurts, but one night after three years it had been better than nothing. Ennoshita is everything.

"I know," Ennoshita knows, and he knows it very well. "I know... because you don't open up."

"I trusted you and see what happened, how that ended."

Futakuchi looks at him and Ennoshita straightens up, frowning.

Trusting someone is intriguing, risky. Futakuchi knows this.

"Are you saying that trusting me was a mistake?"

"I’m saying that I trusted you and I was sad when you left."

Years ago, before the summer holidays ended and with it traces of their lives as high school students to become college students, as well as months ago. Whether it's months or a single miserable, pathetic and beautiful night; sadness had been one of the sensations installed in Futakuchi's chest and Ennoshita's facial features.

Futakuchi crosses his arms, actually almost embracing himself, and Ennoshita lets out a sigh. "You know it was mutual."

One had gone while the other had stayed, but in the same way they had both agreed to end the relationship once the graduations had taken place and thus their high school lives ended.

"I know," Futakuchi says, because he knows it too well, too. "I know."

Ennoshita knows from his position and from the beginning of an annoyed pout on his face, plus the slight tension between his brows; that even though Futakuchi expresses those words in that way, being aware that the end of the relationship between the two had been mutual, that a feeling of frustration accompanies them. He can't blame him, the image of them deciding to break up also appears in his head, but he doesn't want to see Futakuchi that way, years later, still thinking about that moment.

"I'm here now." He says, as if his presence isn't enough.

Futakuchi looks up and Ennoshita tilts his head.

How weird life can be, taking you to different places, moving away from certain people while bringing you closer to others. A few hours can mean nothing while other times it can mean a lot, as well as being face to face again, side by side, being able to see each other, it can mean a lot while other times nothing.

"How is it?" Futakuchi asks, unfolding his arms. "Living there?"

Ennoshita smiles. "Nice, chaotic. Not like Miyagi."

Futakuchi leans back slightly to rest the palms of his hands on the mattress and grins, a certain pride noted in that gesture while Ennoshita forces himself to continue with his attention on that expression instead of sliding his eyes to his torso. "I think we can be quite chaotic here too," Futakuchi assures him, and now they are both smiling.

Ennoshita believes that there’s a certain balance.

Miyagi is calm, the people chaotic. Tokyo is chaotic, the people calm.

"How are Akaashi and the rest?" Futakuchi adds.

"Good," Ennoshita responds. He believes there is so much to tell, like all the nights he has spent studying with Akaashi, the two with highlighted pages everywhere, books and coffee in between, as well as the delicious foods he has tried because Fukunaga has cooked for them, or the fact that he knows Kenma's house; but he knows that this is not the time, and he can’t help but wonder if, if he had decided to continue talking to Futakuchi, Futakuchi would know all those stories. In any case, that hadn’t prevented a year ago from showing how well they knew each other with the help of their hands and mouths. "What about everyone here?"

"I think you know that."

"Not really," Yes, perhaps he knows that Yahaba and Kyoutani never stopped loving each other, that Shirabu loves his career and future profession although half the time he wants to throw books out the window while other times he doesn’t because Semi convinces him to rest, but the boy, man, in front of him turns out to be an enigma that now he must decipher again. "How are you?" He asks him.

Futakuchi raises both eyebrows at his question.

"Well, I guess," He replies with a shrug, realizing that just now they are catching up. Catching up. They hadn't done it before because both their lips and their bodies had been brought up to date. Futakuchi forms a small pout with his lips. They had gone from talking every day, from seeing each other to not speaking and not seeing each other. He knows that he can no longer question past decisions because what is done is done, but he thinks he would be a fool if he denies that every time Akaashi has uploaded a story to Instagram, his eyes haven’t slipped to the other boy in the photo. The boy, man, who is currently in front of him. Fortunately. "I missed you, Chikara."

Ennoshita looks at him, and he is the one who bites his lower lip.

He has it clear, Futakuchi had made it clear in the same way that he had to Futakuchi from the moment he had agreed to go to his apartment to talk —talk, read as the attempt to strike up a conversation until looking at each other had led the words to be absent and so they showed how much they had missed each other with the help of kisses, caresses, and whispered words, names said through sighs in the middle of the night and disordered covers.

But hearing Futakuchi express it is totally different.

"I miss you, even if you're in front of me right now, I miss you."

"I didn't expect you to say you miss me." Ennoshita confesses.

"Why not? Why wou—"

"I thought you moved on." Ennoshita cuts him off, and a laugh that’s not really a laugh abandons his lips. "I thought that one day I would see you walking with someone, holding hands, and that I would be sad although I really don't know what I expected. Then I would have been happy for you, or I expected to ask about you and for Yahaba or Shirabu to look at me with a sad expression before telling me that you are dating someone. Or I don't know, listen to my mom say you're okay, that—"

Ennoshita stops talking when Futakuchi takes his face in his hands.

"You may have graduated as a physical therapist but you do like to create a whole movie with this head of yours." Futakuchi tells him before flicking his forehead with his fingers, getting Ennoshita to blink and let out a laugh that quickly stays in the form of a smile on his face when again Futakuchi rests his hands on his cheeks. "Move on? Get over you? What are you talking about?"

"We didn’t talk anymore. If we know about each other it’s because for the last four years we have been seeing each other through the stories of our friends, of our own stories but without commenting on anything. I didn’t seek to get close to you when I came back here on Christmas even though I thought about doing so, and we only sent texts to each other for our birthdays. It was awkward, I didn't like that but I know what we decided." Ennoshita says, thinking about the times he had returned to Miyagi only so that a feeling of frustration accompanied that of happiness. "You didn’t seek to approach me either. And we only saw each other again the last Christmas I came, on my twenty-first birthday because I grew up and so did you and apparently the two of us being older made us look for each other, even if it was only for one night because then I had to leave. Again. And then we still didn’t talk to each other. And now we see each other after a year only because Yahaba is still just as involved, fortunately, I think. Doesn't it make you mad? Don't you think we've been fools?"

"Maybe, I don't know," Futakuchi doesn't deny, looking at him, taking advantage of the fact that finally the brown of his gaze can meet the black of Ennoshita's eyes. "We were young, we still are. We made a decision as soon as we graduated. You told me you had a scholarship, what was I going to do? Stop you? What were you going to do? Stay here? Yes, it's a few hours, maybe we could have tried, but we decided not to because you and I, you and I know very well that seeing each other every once in a while wouldn’t have been enough."

"Kenji, am I still enough for you?"

Futakuchi strokes his cheek with his thumb, remembering the way he had made the same gesture once they had decided to see each other see the night after Dateko had won the tournament final, or when Ennoshita had decided to tell him that he was confused because although he still likes movies, realizing that he wants to help others with his patience and knowledge had been difficult. Or when they'd both talked about what they would do once the summer holidays were over and Ennoshita had to leave. Or when for one night they had allowed themselves to see each other again, after three years without seeing each other; in the same way, in a different way, admiring the changes in their physical features, liking them, kissing them, caressing them.

"I told you I trust you, you know how much that means to me."

"You trust me. Present tense."

"Right now, right here." Futakuchi assures him.

Ennoshita leans into the contact and Futakuchi thinks that life likes him.

"I didn't mean to tell you not because of my pride."

"I know."

"See," Ennoshita says, pulling away from him, "That's the problem. You know. I know."

"A problem?" Futakuchi raises both eyebrows. "We had a relationship once. This is why we know, this is why we are ex-boyfriends."

"I don't like how that sounds." Ennoshita lifts his upper lip in disgust and knows that Futakuchi wrinkling his nose indicates that it had also been strange for him to pronounce those words. "You are so much more than my ex."

Futakuchi arches an eyebrow, one of the corners of his mouth rising because he knows when Ennoshita needs him to be the way he is.

"An old rival high school captain that defeated you."

Ennoshita narrows his gaze. “An old rival high school captain that didn't win the last tournament of the year because my team did."

"Auch." Futakuchi brings both his hands to his heart.

"We are even."

Some feelings remain, mocking each other, too.

Futakuchi licks his lips and holds a lopsided smile. "Me too," He says. "To me you are also so much more than my ex. That’s why I invited you here. Because you are so much more than my ex."

"An old rival high school captain that defeated you." Ennoshita copies his words.

"More," Futakuchi assures him, approaching him, their knees brushing now. "My boyfriend of my last year of high school, rival with a net in the middle, boyfriend out of the court. Someone I saw almost a year ago. A person I trust."

Ennoshita allows a silent sigh to leave his lips, and takes advantage of the closeness that Futakuchi has created between them to leave his hands between them, a small smile decorating his face once Futakuchi lowers his eyes to those to join his hands with his. A gesture as simple as holding hands can involve more emotions than it may seem.

"I don't want this to be uncomfortable, Kenji."

"Do you feel uncomfortable?"

"Not really," Ennoshita responds, smiling as Futakuchi strokes the back of his hand with his thumb. "I feel like... home."

Be it Miyagi, be it Futakuchi.

"Being here, knowing that somehow we have been ambushed by Yahaba," He adds, and they both laugh. "He and Kyoutani believing they are Cupid. Again. Talking to you, kind of flirting, I feel like we're seventeen again."

"We just need our friends to interrupt us when we're about to kiss and the flashback will be complete."

Ennoshita laughs. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"Now they are not here to interrupt us."

"Mhm?" Futakuchi begins to smile as he stops holding his hands so he can rest them on his face. "Are you suggesting something, Chikara?"

"Maybe," Ennoshita answers on his lips as Futakuchi approaches.

"Maybe," Futakuchi repeats over his before kissing him.

How weird life can be, they think, yearning for each other, becoming vulnerable or actually always being so because no matter where they are, far or near, their houses twenty minutes away or a few hours by train, by car, not seeing each other doesn’t mean not thinking about each other.

Ennoshita's back finds the bed and Futakuchi's hands meet his cheeks as they continue to find each other because perhaps they are still the same people but they have also changed. Futakuchi continues to play volleyball and buying sour gummies while a gentle smile remains Ennoshita's personal brand, but they have both grown up, and with them, their feelings for each other. It’s a familiar sensation, their hands looking for muscles that they already know, more defined, better cared for, skin that they have traveled countless times, with more experience, with more need.

"So now you won't run if you see me buying sour gummies, will you?" Futakuchi asks him.

"I can't believe you still eat that," Ennoshita says running his thumb over his bottom lip.

"Why would I stop?"

"You are probably the only person who does it."

"Good, because then I'll be the only person you see buying them. I don't want you to just see me buying sour gummies, I will spend my entire check on those otherwise."

"Don't spend your check on sour gummies, no need to," Ennoshita assures him.

Futakuchi licks his lips, no longer needing to wonder what it was like to kiss Ennoshita. "Does that mean I will see you?"

"See me, listen to me, hug me, kiss me—"

"Love you." Futakuchi confesses on his lips.

And Ennoshita can only smile, because the years go by, but if you choose, the feelings remain, and the moments together are still good memories, nostalgic and often sad, but good after all. "Love me."

Love can appear slowly, sometimes quickly, in an instant. Ennoshita and Futakuchi believe that it’s love that must understand them and not they that must understand love, since just as when they still wore their jackets with a certain arrogance and joy as well as their uniforms with pride, they only chose to remain close, sometimes too much, laughing, hiding from their friends to kiss, looking for excuses to be alone, confidence increasing, feelings emerging, blushing noticing; now they have grown up and with them their feelings, deepening, quickly falling for each other, without thinking about it, or perhaps thinking about it more, but without hesitation anyway. The important thing is that they feel it, they can feel each other.

Love is not something they precisely accept, but they seek, they long for, and they suffer.

"I can't resist you," Futakuchi says, the first rays of sunlight finally shining on them, assuring him that Ennoshita with his body under him, his arms around his neck, and his mouth inches from his, is not a dream, it's not a nightmare; it’s a reality. Ennoshita tilts his head and Futakuchi narrows his gaze as he realizes the words he has mentioned. "In fact, I can," He adds, changing his mind, getting Ennoshita to smile because he knows what he's talking about.

They weren’t born made for each other, they aren’t destined to be together, they are not the kind of couple whose friends are not surprised once they understand that they are dating because they are not soulmates, they are not the half of the other, and neither is there some kind of magic that drives them to be together.

"I can resist you, but I choose not to," Futakuchi says.

He could have chosen to give up and just snort when Ennoshita had chosen to respond with even more sarcastic and sure words to his when he had first tried to annoy him with a net in between. He could have chosen not to try again instead of continuing to seek to approach him, quickly without the need to be with players by his side and a volley ball between them, the words also becoming sentences as well as the sarcastic smirks in true smiles. He had chosen to approach him, feeling curious, intrigued, his feelings finally being clear when it came to kissing him, letting him know that he wanted to go out with him because he trusted (trusts) him. He could have chosen to forget about him the moment Ennoshita had taken the first train to Tokyo because they would no longer study close to each other, as well as chosen to pretend that he was busy both when Ennoshita had returned to Miyagi for his birthday and also that day, pretending he didn't have time.

But he had done the opposite. Always, every time.

"Do you know how dangerous that is?" He asks him.

Temptation, a constant cycle; following, chasing each other without giving up.

Ennoshita smiles, since he can only offer an answer, "Yes, because the same thing happens to me with you."

He could have chosen to roll his eyes when Futakuchi had started talking to try to distract him from the real game, just as he could have chosen to ignore him when he had started talking to him off the court, with excuses about volleyball involved instead of him also getting close in the same way. He could have seen him as no one else than another captain of his same year, someone from the other side of the net with no priority in his chain of thoughts. He could have chosen to raise his palms to express that he wasn’t interested and that looking for love in his last year of high school wasn’t something he had planned. He had chosen to approach him, feeling curious, intrigued, his feelings finally being clear when it came to kissing him, letting him know that he could (can) trust him. He could have chosen to forget about him the moment he had taken the first train to Tokyo because they would no longer study close to each other, as well as chosen to pretend that he was busy both when his birthday had arrived and also that day, pretending that he didn’t have time.

But he had done the opposite. Always, every time.

"Stay with me tonight," Futakuchi asks him.

Tonight. It's already morning, actually.

How fast time goes by, right? And how slow it can be too, can’t it?

Tonight, today; forever.

Love doesn’t choose the two of them to be together, they declare to love that they decide to be together. Holding hands, their fingers intertwined, or perhaps hugging each other, one arm over shoulders while another arm surrounding a waist, but always side by side. Are they invincible? No. They are quite beatable, actually. But will that stop them? No.

"Okay," Ennoshita agrees, and Futakuchi smiles. "But you should change this pillow, it’s not good for your neck."

"Geh!"

Ennoshita laughs, and Futakuchi promptly too.

Years go by, people change, feelings grow or disappear. Staying together is their decision, and it seems that for the moment, they don’t plan to stop choosing each other.

Ennoshita and Futakuchi. Chikara and Kenji.

That's how they are, this is who they are.

Choosing each other.

Over and over again.


End file.
